


Like A Flame

by Lizzen



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Clone Wars (TV 2008)
Genre: Daddy Issues, Gen, Loneliness, Order 666, Thrawn Trilogy Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:38:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizzen/pseuds/Lizzen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You’ve got Order 66 on one train, you’ve got Ahsoka Tano on another. They’re speeding towards each other. At what point do they impact?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like A Flame

The search for Obi-Wan is a constant in the early years; Darth Vader doesn't bother to look for Ahsoka, he owes her that much.

-  
Ahsoka Bonteri buries her husband at twilight, overwhelmed by grief (a familiar, insidious feeling). It wasn't the war or the Order that killed him; just complications from a Kel Dor flu and an Outer Rim doctor not worth his salt.

She knows now that peace was never meant for her.

"This war is yours," she had told her master, so many moons ago. "I'm done." How little I knew, she thinks.

She's known the dark side of the Force, though she doesn't remember it fully (the shades of Mortis haunt her dreams), and it knows her. It tempts her, as she watches the sun set completely and the night deepens.

Is this how he felt, she thinks (she knows; Anakin's pain shattered her despite the light years between them).

Loneliness, like a flame, eats away at her resolve.

-  
She considers her options:

-Anonymity in the Outer Rim and the continued complete loss of self (she may have declared herself a pacifist, but she itches for a fight).

-She can sense Obi-Wan's presence (broken as it is), and he would be a bitter comfort.

-Her old master; her death.

The funeral rites of the Togruta are elaborate, as is the dress. Once she has left this empty ball of dust for the harshness of space, she will prepare herself.

-  
His palace on Coruscant is as good a place as any to wait, she's not in any great hurry to die.

Ahsoka is not as rusty as she thought, and the storm troopers are not as well trained as their predecessors. (Or he knew I would come. She takes a sharp breath and pushes away self-doubt.)

She sits in his meditation room, and holds still. The austere place is his, down to the very stone. Simple lines, sharp and clean. Those who knew him on Tatooine would never consider this as Skywalker's tastes, and neither, she thinks with pity, would Padme.

In all the worlds, only two people would recognize this place as his, feel Anakin's presence. (Part of her wishes she had the strength to find Obi-Wan, but, over the years, there has been enough ash in her mouth. And after all, how could she ever forgive him?)

She wonders at the son (or daughter) that Anakin lost the night he lost everything. If living, the child would be just 15, and raised in the darkness or in the dark side depending on who got to the child first. Ahsoka shudders, feeling a peace for the child long dead. 

-  
Vader spends little time on Coruscant, Palpatine ensures this.

"Hello," a woman's voice says, echoing in the meditation room. There is a reflection of violet light around the room after the snap hiss of a readied lightsaber.

Ahsoka looks up to see the woman in black and almost speaks Asajj's name (Asajj is dead; and this is no Night Sister). She's young, young as Ahsoka was when she met Anakin, and her hair is fire red.

"You are not welcome here," the Emperor's Hand says, firmly but not unkind. "I am to escort you off planet."

"Are you, little one?" Ahsoka says quietly.

-  
The Executor has no business in Tatooine space (what does the Empire care about the Outer Rim and the Hutts?) but Lord Vader has commanded it so.

The Sith stands in the observation tower, staring at the desert planet, unmoving.

There is plenty of work to be done while at rest, so his officers are not idle. Space traffic around Tatooine slows (an Imperial Star Destroyer is not uncommon; but the Executor is something different altogether). Eventually the Hutts make an inquiry, curious and tinged with frustration.

The officers stare at each other and know the risks. The young Captain Carter is chosen to voice their concerns with Vader. He shakes visibly, but his back is straight as he walks.

When he returns, ashen but alive, he simply says: "We will remain." 

-  
Obi-Wan senses his presence (wrecked and damaged, but still the man he knew and loved), and empties his mind of all thoughts. There is the negligible fear for the son that remains (Luke sleeps peacefully in his basement room, dreams of fighter pilots and glory) and it gives him away to the searching mind above him.

Loneliness, like a flame, eats away at their resolve.

-  
Ahsoka finds him at last on one of his trips to Honoghr. His Noghri guards approach her first, their teeth bared. Her chin is high and her hands are empty. They hold in a breath, and take a step back. She can feel their misplaced reverence.

"Mal'ary'ush?," one asks, and turns to his master for orders.

(No one can see Anakin's lips curl up into a smile.)

"No," Vader says. "But leave us."

His guards are like shadows and to the shadows they return.

The former master and apprentice regard each other carefully. "They asked if you were my daughter," he finally says.

Her breath catches. "Did they?"

"How did you escape his Hand?" he asks. His tone is incredulous, which both irritates her (who does he thinks she is?) and impresses her (the red haired warrior has meaning, place; much like Ahsoka once did).

Ahsoka shrugs. "I was well trained."

The Sith Lord crosses his arms, and stands very still. She senses the Force reaching out from him, testing her. She keeps herself steady, wills herself to be calm. (There's a desperate desire to ask him to take the mask off, show her his face; but she knows better.)

"Why are you here?"

Her gaze is even. "Everyone I've loved is dead, Anakin."

(Beneath the armor, he flinches, and knows her despair.)

"I do not wish you harm," he says finally, quietly.

"Nor I you."

He breathes heavily, and she shivers, unused to the rattling noise.

-  
(She finds it a comfort in the coming years.)

-  
"Sentiment," Palpatine warns, a threat deep in his tone.

"She is leashed." It's a pretty lie, grudgingly accepted for the time being.

The Emperor has his Hand; and Lord Vader has his.


End file.
